Learn how the E-N crime team does their jobs and read about the quirky characters they encounter and the sometimes bizarre things that can happen at a crime scene that don't make it into their stories.

Brian Chasnoff: The Unhappy Messenger

My job description is nothing if not that of a messenger, but sometimes delivering a message is the last thing I want to do.

Case in point: Yesterday I took to writing a short story about a man who was shot to death in a downtown brawl. The shooter, who claimed the dead man had stabbed him in the chest before he fired the gun, was not charged with murder, at least not yet.

The police report rolled over the newsroom fax machine and included on it was the dead man’s address. I was curious about how his relatives might be feeling about the fact that the killer had not been charged with murder. So I went to the listed South Side house and left my business card on the porch after no one answered the door.

The call came in about an hour later. It was the victim’s aunt, calling to see what I wanted.

“I’m very sorry about what happened,” I intoned in a typical refrain.

“What happened?” she asked, sounding worried.

I froze.

Typically, reporters are not placed in such a position. It’s general policy in law enforcement to protect the identity of a victim until local relatives have been notified of the death. But somehow, this time I got there first.

“Could you hold on for a moment?” I asked, bewildered.

A frantic discussion with my editor took place. This was an ethical matter over which there was no time to mull. Ultimately, we decided to deliver the message because it already had been broached.

Enriqueta Martinez did not panic. She was upset, but she also seemed thankful to have received the news. I told her everything I knew about the slaying of her nephew and urged her to call police for more information.

Such encounters, thankfully, are rare in this business, but that day the bad news would not wait for the relative remoteness of newsprint.